


Sibling Bond

by TiinaR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 20:02:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20784308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiinaR/pseuds/TiinaR
Summary: Aftermath of war is never easy, they said. Sacrifices had to be made, they said. For Hermione, all of them could rot in hell.





	Sibling Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Readers,  
bear with me. It's my first story, you could call it my debute. English isn't my mother tongue, so I'm grateful for every comment, which helps me to improve my grammar.

It had been two weeks since the fall of Voldemort, when Hermione found out her parents were dead. They had broken the memory charm, she had placed upon them. Their love for their daughter was stronger than her magic and so they had moved back to London in march. And that love was, what had killed them. 

The Grangers hadn’t even had time to unpack numerous boxes. They were slaughtered shortly after their arrival, because Hermione had escaped Malfoy Manor. They had paid the price.

And Hermione found out by pure coincidence. She wanted to check the property before traveling to Australia a few days later. Nobody had told her, that her parents came back and now were gone. Nobody had thought about warding her childhood home. Nobody had even asked about her parents.

The ground floor was in ruins. Blood still on the walls, the strain of her parents bodies deep inside the plush white carpet, her mother had loved so much. Broken picture frames spread around the floor. Hermione felt numb. She stumbled through the house, trying not to step on her parents remains. Blood and tissue was literally everywhere. She didn’t register the the smell of the decaying bodies. Or she did, but her brain was not able to handle more. Her breathing was shallow and her arms became cold, numb. 

She was sweating and her legs felt like jelly. And so she dragged herself up the stairs. And all she wanted to do was laying down in her mothers bed, smelling her mother’s perfume on her pillow, imagining that special, warm and loving embrace of her parents. If she tried hard enough, she would wake up, from this terrible nightmare, she called life the last years. 

Hermione missed her parents terribly. It was hard enough to erase herself from their memories. The feeling of being forgotten was painful, but she could have lived with that, as long as her parents were safe and happy. Being a witch and part of a secret society had put a strain on her parents lives. Her parents tried so hard to understand her life and struggles, always giving more and more, even if the timeframe they had together had gotten smaller and smaller over the years. Her parents had loved her so so much. 

And now, now they were gone. Because of that fucking band of terrorists, because she was a witch, because in her societys opinion, muggles were worth nothing,because she was not strong enough to give her parents the life they had deserved - a life without all the problems she had caused.

She was trapped in a stream of guilty thoughts. And Hermione did not know, how to proceed. She could not call the police, and she would not call the aurors. She did not know, what to do, or where to go, or even whom to trust.

Aftermath of war is never easy, they said. Sacrifices had to be made, they said. Now she was hailed as an amazing war hero. The brains of the fucking golden Trio. The damn golden girl. One day the saint of the wizarding world, and the next she was the scarlet witch, or mudblood extraordinaire. Or whatever caught their fucking fancy. Her parents death would be just another headline, another reason to speak about her, because nobody could just shut the fuck up.

And exactly that was the reason, nobody would know about her parents death. They would drag their murder through the prophete. And what fine piece of trash they could spin with her family’s death. They could declare her unstable now, finally too broken to be heard and taken seriously. Or better yet, celebrate her loss as a fucking blessing - now without any roots in the muggle-world, she'd be finally free to settle fully into the wizarding world. Marry fast to gain a real family of good standing. Marry and bread, and shut up with her stupid ideas of equal rights. The ministry of magic probably would try to sell her like cattle to the highest bidder. Archaic arseholes as the all are. 

Or - that would probably Rita’s favorite - making her responsible for the muggle death - as brightest witch not being able to protect her parents. She had failed her parents, the most important people in her life. If she had failed her flesh and blood, who could count on her?

The hate and anger she felt for years amplified with every thought. She had fought so so hard to be recognized good enough to be accepted. She had fought so so hard to give others a life in peace. She had given up her childhood, her family, her innocence. And in the end - the wizarding world did not even deserve that. A society which forced children to fight a fucking war, which the elder generation could have stopped 3 decades ago. So many had died for nothing - as long as the society which had bread those bigots, did not change, it would repeat itself again and again and again. Until magic would be dead. And Hermione was not stupid - a small society with a small gene pool and three wars in 50 years toed with extinction. Everyone with a damn brain should see that.

But that wasn’t her problem anymore. They had lost her patience , kindness and logic the moment her parents stopped breathing. She would not give more of  herself. They all could fuck themselves. She had finally enough. Those bastards would have thrown her to the wolves only weeks ago - and still would do exactly that if the wind changed again. She hated them with every fiber of her heart - spineless bastards.

But what of her friends. Well, most of them were dead. And those, who still were alive? Neville had lost his grandmother, Luna had lost her father, and both had packed their belongings to travel the world, find a new place without all these hard and painful memories. Nobody knew, they were gone for good, only Hermione. And she was good at keeping secrets. Her parting gifts were both special travel luggage but in form of a simple bracelet charm. Both had a Hogwarts-trunk-charm, which would only react to their voices. It would engorge up to a normal trunk. And that trunk was special itself. It was almost as big as scammanders legendary suitcase. Both were exactly for for their passion with wide spaces, greenhouses and lots of books for their passion in herbology and magizoology. Hermione was truly proud of herself with both creations. Greenhouses, and so much space, as well as the same charm the great hall had had before the last battle which would allow them real sunlight and a normal day-night rhythm. Both had a small cottage inside to life a comfortably life. In her eyes - both had deserved exactly that, and so much more.

She also had given Andi one of them, to give her a way out, with a halfbreed-baby in that fucking society, Hermione was forced to give her something, even if it was more for herself and the feeling to protect this precious little boy.

Harry had gotten the same, and obviously, she owned one as well. There was also the gimmick, that all four libraries in the suitcases were linked together. Every book would duplicate for the others as well. She had been able to copy all books of the hogwarts library and grimmauld place - all because Sirius had dared her to get out of her comfort zone. 

So she could just write Harry, Neville and Luna. But that she would not do. All of them had taken off. Harry and Ginny wanted to distance themselves from the pain, the press and all that damn pressure. And so they left three days ago, to grieve privatly and come to terms, that the war was over. Harry deserved happiness more than anyone she knew, so she would not disturb him. Neville and Luna would come back as soon as she would call for them. They would take care of her, and forget themselves - again - she was not selfish enough to take away their chance to start anew.

Ronald on the hand was an utter bastard. Not only a fucking coward, who ran as soon as the food had run low. They should not have taken him back, but Harry had been so happy. And that kiss in the Chamber of Secrets was awkward and sloppy - talk about failed expectations - and should not have happened as well. Ron spoke of their kiss, and soon everyone was sure they were in a relationship. Ronald had never asked, so Hermione hadn’t said no. She was not in her right mind to even feel anything but grief for all those, they had lost. Tonks, Fleur, Bill and Remus had been more important to her than she had understood before they were gone. She was obvious to all that, so she did not see any bad intentions. She could not bring herself to Moodys Constant Vigilance. The war was over, she should be safe now. But after Molly said, she could sleep in Ronalds room - she had not thought about any implications after almost a year in a tent - Ronald became handsy. And that was a problem. Hermione could not handle his or any males touch after what had happened in Malfoy Manor. But Ronald did not understand. He tried and failed to pressure her into a physical relationship, even going so far, that he snuck into her bed, when she slept. 

That was 8 days ago, and Hermione had not slept a full night since. Not that sleep came easily before, but now she could not even trust her best friend.

She was almost raped when they were captured. Greyback and Scabior had saliated after her, and she could still feel their hands on her body. They were almost successful, if it weren't for Malfoys interference. He had spoken up, demanded that he would break the worthless mudblood. Greyback would leave nothing of her to talk to or torture afterwards and that was not acceptable, he said. But at the same time he projected his thoughts to her, reassuring her, that he would get her out alive, would fake it anyhow. Draco stalled long enough, and Harry and Ron had broken out. They had gotten away, because Malfoy did not put up a damn fight against them, had even accidently stupified Scrabbior instead of Ronald. He even had shielded her from his aunts cruciatus. Oh she had felt them all the same, but her mind did not shatter into thousand worthless pieces. 

Thanks to Malfoy she was not raped and being eaten, because of Malfoy she still had a functioning brain. Thank to Malfoy, she was still alive. Malfoys trial, eight days ago had set off a series of events, she could not have prevented. Because she owed it to him, Hermione was adamant, to speak up in front of the wizengaomt, in front of whole wizarding Britan. It was the right thing to do, and Ronald despised her for it. 

It was hard for Hermione to speak about the events of Malfoy manor, but she truly  tried to explain it to Ronald, not that he was able to listen to her. They fought with each other, and Ronald snuck into her bed that night, to get, what he deserved, to show her, that she had to listen and follow his orders. He forbade her to speak up, forbade her to leave the Burrow, forbade her to deny him.

War changes people, they said. And now, now Hermione understood. The apathy stopped abruptly. He said, that evil ferret was not worth it and as a soon-to-be Weasley, she was not allowed to come to his help. Soon-to-be Weasley, as if! That blew up in his face. Hermione’s magic had crackled into her hair and this time she accidently conjured dragons instead of little birds, which burned Ronald quiet badly. The screams conjured the whole household, and Molly almost duelled Hermione then and there.

She demanded justice for hurting her baby, and the least she wanted to throw the ungrateful wrench out of her home.

But then Harry spoke up. He explained, he would leave with his sister, because family was the most important thing. He explained, he would also speak up for the Malfoys, and if someone had a problem with him doing the right thing, they should say it now, and spare everyone from any more fighting. And so they packed their belongings and relocated to the remains of Grimmauld Place. Surprisingly, Ginny came after them with everything but her bed.

Directly after the trial Harry and Ginny had left, and now Hermione stood laid in her parents bed and cried and cursed the world.

It took two days to find enough strength to get up and clear her childhood home. She vanished all the blood and rubble, packed all of their belongings into her modified trunk, and made arrangements with her parents lawyer to sell everything what up to now remained. Her parents were already declared dead, when she had put the memory charm upon them. So this was the last thing, she had to do. In the eyes of the muggle law, she had been an orphan for almost a year.

The next day changed everything. Her lawyer had explained, that she was the sole beneficial, and with that, she was literally loaded. Hermione had always known, her parents lived a comfortable life, but comfortable and the sum on their - now her - accounts was more than that. They even had more than one account for her. Hermione had emptied her College fund last summer to buy enough food, cloth and necessities for the camping trip from hell. Sadly they had left most of it in Grimmauld before they raided the ministry. But now, there were two more. One from her grandparents, as well as an account with 1 mio. pounds. That floored her quite a bit. But just like Harry, she would give every of that money to get her parents back.

For what does she need so much money. The ministry had given her the order of merlin, first class. Attached to it blood money of 500.000 G. All of it changed into pounds and put into her normal account, not Gringotts, because she could not enter the bank, after robbing the damn horcrux. And now that. 

Hermione took all paperwork with her to get a grip on everything that needed to be handled. And there were a few strange findings. She was no Granger, not by blood. Richard Granger had adopted and raised her, but he had not fathered her. One of these big accounts came from his birth father - Howard Stark. 

He had given her mother money to stay quiet about their affair and lovechild. 

Logically she knew, that did not change her love for her parents or her loving childhood. Probably she should have been happy, to have a loving father in her life. But how dare Howard Stark to throw his child away like this. She did not need his bloody money. If he had not wanted her, he could shove his money up his arse.

Hermione had taken all her belongings and settled into a little hole in the wall hotel. Shabby and in some parts disgusting, but nobody would search for her here.  She did not give a damn, because in the end, she lived and slept in her own bed in her trunk/ cottage. She needed time to make a plan - without a life line she would drown, she knew that.

And now, just a few weeks later, she was on her way off to America. She had given the goblins her vault with all in it to repair the damage they had caused. It was enough to pay her part, not for everything they had destroyed. SHe had no interest in paying Rons dues, or better yet the dues of the damn ministry - they were forced to break into Gringotts. Hermione had no interest in re-emerging in the british part of the magical world ever again. 

She had send Minerva a letter and told her, that she needed time for herself. She also wrote Kingsley to refuse his offer into auror training. Hadn’t she paid enough to a society that did not really wanted her? She would not bleed for them again. Kingsley, naturally, did not take her serious and played with her moral compass. 

She could not leave, when they needed people to rebuild. With that she warded herself. No magical, with exception of Minerva, would be able to reach  her anytime soon. Harry, Ginny, Luna and Neville communicated with her via trunk-journals, so she did not need to make any other exeptions. The rest could all rot in hell.

After a lot of communication she learned, that her sperm donor had died in her first year at Hogwarts. But his lawyer had told her, that he had a son. Anthony Stark was alive, and quite a womanizer. Just like his father - or their father, she presumed. She had a brother. A real brother, she never had the chance to get to know. A brother who would have shared the lonely childhood she had called her own.She felt like crying all way to Malibu. 

Malibu of all places. She wished for Harry, her chosen brother in all-but-blood. But she knew he deserved his peace and happiness after all the loss and heartbreak. And so she cried quietly for almost 12 hours.

Malibu was busy and so bright and sunny, it hurt her eyes. She had to duck into a public toilet to charm herself to ward of sunburn. She instantly hated this place. So sunny, and every one seemed so happy, and probably fake. She knew, she was probably biased, but once in her life, she was okay with that. Anger and Hate were so much easier to handle than sadness and the endless numbness she felt up until now.

But to hell with that. She thought about her next steps. She had made plans in that shithole she had called home the last weeks. All was lined up. Arrive at Malibu, take a cab to Stark Industries, steamroll into his office to meet Stark. Give him back his money. And take the next plane to fucking nowhere.

After 12 hours of crying, she did not feel like that. There was no time frame, no reason to cut this stop short. She just could rent an own car, drive through this hell of smiles and sunshine, settle into the new country before making a road trip out of it. Maybe, just maybe her brother would be interested in getting to know her. 

He was the last of her blood. So it was probably the right decision. This country held no emotion filled memories, no reminders of her friends or parents. No reminders of war. Here, she was invisible. Here she was a no-one, and she decided, she would use this chance of invisibility. 

Little did she knew, that she was not as invisible as she wanted it. There were at least two pair of eyes that followed her out of the airport. One, belonging  to a middle aged man in an inconspicuous grey suit, who already had waited for the elusive war-heroine Hermione Granger.

The other a thief, who took naive tourists to an abandoned building near Los Angeles, where he would throw them out without their belongings - if they were lucky - but this bird was pretty which meant anything but lucky, if she would find herself in his cab. 

There was a third, but it was no man or woman. No it was an AI, which already knew,  that Hermione Granger was to land in Malibu. Jarvis was Anthony Starks personal assistant, and knew everything about him as well as Stark Industries and  late Howard Starks investments. And as such he knew, Hermione Granger was an investment, paid in 1979, without other connections. 

Jarvis informed his creator a few hours before her arrival. Tony was angered, reminded of his unloving father, but also intrigued. Who was she, and was it coincidence, that she was now in Malibu? Did she want to meet Stark Snr? He made a background check and found nothing up above the age of eleven. She was almost a decade younger than him, in her younger years in intelligence already above average. She should be 18, almost nineteen years old, still a kid, traveling alone. 

And if the cameras told him one thing, she looked dreadful. Too thin, too pale, too downtrodden to leave her alone. Tony was not interested in emotional  relationships, but he felt the need to protect that kid. Why, he was not sure. He just knew, he did not like that feeling. It was so suffocating. 

So he told Jarvis to inform him as soon as the plane would land.

**Author's Note:**

> changed a bit, maybe even a bit more. We'll see when I will be able to post more. But now I'm happy enough to continue.


End file.
